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chapter twenty-three

“When a woman starts counting, you only have one choice, you get naked, and you do whatever she says — nobody wants to know what’s after three. Nobody.”

~From Max Emory’s Guide to Dating and Other Important Life Lessons

Jason

“So—” Max cleared his throat awkwardly, “—never knew you could do it in a pool, and so fast. Inquiring minds would like to know.”

Reid and Colt both stopped picking up trash and looked up, smug expressions on their faces, as Max leaned against his rake.

“Was it your lack of… skill? Or was the water just really putting up a fight for your initial, uh, entry.”

“Max.” My teeth clenched. “Listen very carefully. I am the law. I will end you and make it look like an accident with planted evidence and enough cocaine to make you New Haven’s biggest pimp. Don’t, just… don’t.”

“I’ve never done cocaine.” Max seemed thoughtful. “I think it would be bad for my heart.”

“You’re like the lovechild of Barney from How I Met your Mother and Schmidt from New Girl — but with a severe cocaine addiction and no warning bell.”

“Ha!” He laughed. “No, but seriously… drugs are bad.”

I groaned.

“Man has a point,” Colt spoke up. “How long did you disappear for? One, maybe two minutes?”

“Bullshit!” I roared. “It was at least seven!”

“Seven, seven, seven.” Max started humping the rake. “Oh, sorry. I was thinking of the Friends episode where Monica draws the graph — funny, since I have my own graph. Maybe you should look at it. Might change your life.”

“I don’t need a damn graph!”

“Quick!” Max dropped the rake and crossed his arms. “What’s a two, three, six?”

I stared — I mean, really stared — wondering if I was about to be witness to one of Max’s brain cells exploding out of his ear. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Reid raised his hand.

“No!” I jabbed a finger at him. “I call bullshit on Max.”

Colt cleared his throat, then looked guiltily away, while Max just grinned and said, “Or how about a triple-seven?”

Reid actually groaned.

“You don’t have a graph.” I shook my head. “And even if you did, I’m not looking at it!”

“Changed. Colt’s. Life.” Max winked.

“YOU SWORE!” Colt picked up the rake from the ground and pointed it at Max’s lifted hands. “ON THE BIBLE!”

“First off, I had my fingers crossed behind my back. Second, I lied. It wasn’t my Grandma’s Bible. It was an old copy of The Hobbit, still sacred, still doesn’t count.”

Reid snorted out a laugh.

“Like you never looked at it,” Max taunted.

Reid shifted on his feet and coughed. “Maybe once or twice.”

“He has it memorized,” Colt offered.